Pandora's Box
by Kay Celestine
Summary: The world of theirs was a complex one; the world of themselves, however, was an entirely different story. A series of 31 oneshots concerning various members of the PJO world's insecurities and secrets.
1. Cry

.x Pandora's Box x.

.**  
**

_"The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed."_

_-Charlotte Brontë_

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_

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**Cry  
**

He cried his first night at boarding school.

He couldn't remember where the feeling of loss first started, but he knew when it came out. At night, he remembered, when everything was still and there were no distractions. When there was nothing to stop him from remembering that he was all by himself.

He was so young, only six, and the thought of being so far away from his mother scared him. He knew that they were still in the same state, but the fact that she was not here with him, was far too much.

So he bit his tongue to hold everything back, and pulled the sheet over his head. The sheets had formed their own fragile, but secure covering, and there he was safe. But he still could not let it out; he could not run the risk on anyone seeing him.

The older boys were mean and he knew, even as young as he was, what would happen to him if they ever saw him. They would tease him and call him a baby and make the school year a lot tougher than it would already be. So he held back his sniffles and tried to think of a happier time in his young life. But it didn't work, it couldn't work, not when every memory was filled with his mother's warm smile.

So when the lights went out, and when he was sure everyone was sleeping, he cried. He let the silent tears fall down his cheeks and lull him to bed. And when he woke up, it would be better. Everything was always better after he cried. Because when he woke up, it was one day closer to seeing his mommy again.

After that night, he never cried again.

~o~

He hated crying, in fact, he despised it. So he never cried. He didn't know when he first started to hate it, but he knew why he did.

There was no one who was there for him or his mother, it was just the two of them together and alone. So he needed to be strong for her sake. His mother had a lot to deal with, so he needed to do all he could to help her, and crying did nothing but get in the way.

So he shut his tears off and held everything in. This wasn't when he was six -- crying wasn't acceptable then, and it wasn't acceptable now.

Every time he felt the tears threatening to be free, he silenced them, using his fists instead. Fighting rarely solved everything for him, but it stopped his tears, and that was all that mattered.

~o~

The scene played over and over again in his head.

The image of his mother trying to fend of such a monster was the only thing he could see. _His last moments of her..._

She hadn't stood a chance against such a monster. From what he had heard, not a lot of people did, yet she still fought against it. She saved him, like she always did. _The perfect mom_, his friends had always said, and she was, but now, she was _gone_.

His mind was in a state of confusion and chaos. A million memories flooded him: memories of her, of all the things she had always done for him and the memory of her disappearing in the cloud of gold right before his eyes were all thrown together in one big mess.

A train wreck, that's what it was... that's what _he_ was. His memories, his feelings, his thoughts were all crashing into each other, and he knew what would happen.

He had tried to never cry for the sake of his mother. He needed to be strong for her, but she wasn't here anymore...

This time he knew when the feeling of loss started. This time, he knew exactly what was going to happen. So for the first time in six years, he held his tongue, and pulled the sheet over his head. After all these years, they still provided the same secure, yet fragile protection he needed. But he wouldn't cry, because this time, things would not get better. He would not wake up and be one day closer to seeing her. This time, it was no more.

It was his first night at Camp Half-Blood.

He cried that night too.

* * *

_**Just a brief A/N:** Okay, that's all for this. This chapter was when based on when Percy thought his mother had died. I sincerely hoped you liked it, and would really appreciate it if you'd review. Flames are accepted, just for the record._

_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and am in no way profiting off of these.  
_

_Next chapter: Shame_

_Review s'il vous plaît :)  
_


	2. Shame

.x Pandora's Box x.

.**  
**

_"The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed."_

_-Charlotte Brontë_

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* * *

_

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_**Shame**

He never wanted her.

There was no way for him to deny that small, but damaging fact.

When he had met her mother, he was enraptured by her. He had found himself lost in her wisdom, her knowledge... her very being. She had told him she was a goddess, and he had never believed anything more in his life.

But what he had for her wasn't love, it was curiosity. The goddess of wisdom, Athena, had taken interest in him, and all he could think of was questions. He wanted to know how she thought, how the world functioned. He wanted to challenge her to a battle of wits and discussions. That was all. He never wanted to kiss her, or to hold her... all he wanted was to talk to her.

He certainly never wanted a child.

When he had first seen the child, he was appalled. She had simply said it was a gift from her, and a gift it looked like. Wrapped in silk cloth and laying peacefully in a golden weaved basket, the infant looked more like the gift she supposedly was, than an actual child.

_Can't you keep her?_ he had asked, not bothering to hide the slight disgust that was apparent in his voice. That was a bad thing to do. The goddess was livid at his remark, but explained the rules to him nonetheless. She was a gift -- a gift he did not want, a gift he could not return. And so he was stuck with the child._ Annabeth..._

~o~_  
_

Growing up, she was indeed a lovely child by any standards, but he still could not hide the fact that he did not want her. She loved him, the love that a child shows only to their parents, but he never returned it and it hurt, because no matter how many times he shunned it, she never did stop loving him.

But she knew. She was a bright child, and she could see it in his manners, his actions, in _him_. It was when he had gotten married and had his sons that it became more apparent than ever. He knew the way she was treated by her stepmother... how his wife was cold towards her, and how she shunned the girl. And while he wanted to help, he didn't, because he had felt the same way.

He knew that she would cry silently to herself when she thought she was alone. He knew how lonely it must have been for her, to be in such a large house with so many people, but with no one to talk to, to play with, _to love her. _He had tried at some point to love her, but it didn't work. He never loved her, and he _would_ never love her. She was her mother; interesting and lovely, but not to be loved.

She was seven when she ran away, and he hadn't even noticed.

It wasn't until dinner that he had realized that she wasn't there, when he had noticed that her chair was empty and her place, barren. He had gone to her room, to all the little places she usually spent by herself, but she wasn't there. He hadn't found her, only a small piece of paper with two words etched into them.

_I'm gone._

He was shocked, but not surprised. He found it hard to grasp that she was gone, but he wasn't entirely surprised at the fact. He knew it was coming, he just had not figured it would have been so soon. He told his wife, only to be faced with the same stoic expression that he felt inside him. How could expect her to care, when he himself didn't.

It was the next day when he had walked in on his wife cradling the young boys that he felt it. _Shame..._ he had never been so ashamed in his life. Not because he had pushed his young daughter to run away from him or that he had neglected her so viciously, but that as he looked at his young wife and their sons, things had never felt so _right_.

~o~

Years later, he would realized that he loved her. His wife too.

When she went missing for the second time, he refused to let her fall out of his grasp as he had those years before. He had loved her, he knew that now. He really did. He hadn't loved her like he loved the boys, but how could he? They were two entirely different cases. He had loved her in his own way, and in her own way, and it had taken him years to realize.

But it wasn't love that fueled him the most in getting his only daughter back, it was shame. Because every time he looked at her, every time he looked at the boys, every time he looked at his family when it was broken, he would always remember that feeling.

He would always remember his shame.

* * *

_**Brief A/N**: This is clearly based on Mr. Chase's feelings towards Annabeth. I also want to take this time to thank those who reviewed, I really appreciated it!_

_Next chapter__: Stubborn_

_Review s'il vous__ plaît__!  
_


	3. Stubborn

.x Pandora's Box x.

.**  
**

_"The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed."_

_-Charlotte Brontë_

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* * *

_

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_**Stubborn**_  
_

Children of Aphrodite and Ares were expected to get along. End of story, no questions asked.

They were expected to be more than cordial to each other; they were expected to be friends. They were supposed to spend time with each other; no matter how much the Ares boys wanted to rip the heads off of the male Aphrodite cabin members and no matter how desperately the Aphrodite girls wanted to scream at the behavior of the daughters of Ares, they were _supposed_ to stick together.

That was what tradition dictated and so it was followed.

But boy did they hate it.

Especially the one called Clarisse. When she was first told about the rules, she gagged at the thought. It was hard, because the sad truth was, she, as a daughter of Ares, was in the minority at this point in time, and if she wanted to please her father and be equal with her siblings, she would have to do it. She had glanced over at the Aphrodite cabin members, and the sick feeling had rushed over her twice as hard this time, and it was then she realized it was going to be harder than it looked.

It was only when she had been reluctantly paired with an Aphrodite girl, and only after the girl had tried to put make-up on her, that she realized, there was no way in hell she was going to stand by and just go with the flow. Screw Aphrodite. It was going to take more than an ancient love affair to get _her_ to bend or break.

~o~

It took more than a while for her to finally tolerate the presence of the Aphrodite members, and the only reason she had done it was because of her... because of Silena.

She never really understood her liking for Silena; they were, after all, polar opposites. Respect... that's what is was, respect.

After months of degrading the Aphrodite members, and amassing a large following from the rest of her siblings, Clarisse was more than well known around camp. In fact, she was infamous for her crude attitude and even more so, her headstrong ways. No one dared to challenge her, because she was the first one to challenge right back.

But after months of being ridiculed, the frilly member of the Aphrodite cabin had finally had enough. With her armor in tow, she challenged the headstrong leader to a duel. At first, Clarisse had just shrugged it off, but it was after the girl had called her out, that she realized that this duel was going to happen.

And happened it did.

Clarisse had won of course, the raven haired girl being all but demolished, but she had also gained a friend. Silena had refused to back down on her mother's honor, and even though she had lost, she had won in so many ways. Clarisse respected that; Silena was just as unrelenting as she was. That's where their friendship began.

~o~

When she told her siblings that they weren't going to fight in the war, she knew it would have serious consequences. She knew she was putting the rest of the campers lives at stake and she knew she could have been ultimately helping the Titans to win. But she could care less about them. She was tired of the Ares cabin being tossed around, and she was going to teach everyone a lesson, no matter the cost.

She was unrelenting, not even when they had offered to give them the chariot, or when the other campers all begged them to help. She was not going to back down; the incident was the final straw, and she was sticking to her vow. Nothing was more important at that moment than her honor.

Not even the life of one of her dear friends.

~o~

Selfish was what the other campers called her, and it was true. Of course no one said that to her face, especially considering that Silena was dead, but she knew they were saying it nonetheless. And even more than that, it was what she was thinking.

She had let Silena die because she wasn't ready to back down. She had allowed her to die, because deep down, she knew Silena wasn't going to back down either. If only she had relented, if only she had just backed down for this one time, Silena would still be alive.

Their friendship had started out on their headstrong ways, and it was sad, because that's also how it ended.

_"You're such a stubborn pig"_. That was the first thing Silena had ever said to her...

...and she hated how right it was.

* * *

_**A brief A/N:** So this is it for now. This chapter was based on Clarisse's and Silena's relationship and Silena's death. I really hoped you liked it, and would _really appreciate it_ if you gaiz would review ^^" _

_Next Chapter: Sorry  
_

_Review, s'il vous plait._


	4. Sorry

.x Pandora's Box x.

.**  
**

_"The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed."_

_-Charlotte Brontë_

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* * *

_

**

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**

**Sorry**

She never asked to be Hades wife. So when he married her, she had expected him to be faithful.

She knew that the gods were notorious for being promiscuous, but they were different. They had never kidnapped their loves to be their wives, thus throwing off the balance of the seasons and so forth. She was different-- she had always told herself so. She was special. Persephone always prided herself on the fact that she had her husband right where she wanted him.

So imagine her surprise when she found out that her husband had fathered a child. She was furious, livid... she was betrayed. She remembered that day so clearly. She had cried so much that day, that Hera herself had to comfort her. Hera was the only person who could have comforted her, having been through what she was going through then.

Hades was sorry, but only to a small extent. She had yelled at him, cried, and threatened him, only to get a vague, unapologetic answer in return. All the gods were like this, she should have known he wouldn't have been any different.

So she simply got used to it. After all, she was the wife. She always came first and every other mistress came second. She calmed herself on the little fact that at the end of the day, he would always come back to her.

~o~

Maria di Angelo.

When Hades had first met her, she had thought nothing of the woman. She was just another mortal fling of her husband. But she wasn't. When Bianca was born, she had expected Hades to come back to her like her always did. But he didn't, he stayed in little stays with Maria. And then Nico was born.

She had never been so heartbroken in her life. She had tried her best to win back his attentions, but to no avail.

Because for the first time she knew, he was only coming back to her because he had to.

By the time the second world war was brewing, she had all but lost him from her grasp. But she refused to take second place to a mortal. _She_ was the wife, not Maria. And she intended to stay that way.

When the war was over, and his children had lost, she made her move. When the prophecy was said and her step children were being captured and imprisoned, she knew exactly what she had to do. She dried her eyes and balled her fists, and made her way to Zeus. Zeus may not have known where the last two children were, but she did.

She had never expected Zeus to be so accurate, and for her plan to work as well, if not better, than it did. She had only expected Zeus to kill the two young children, and to cause grief to Maria, just as she had been feeling. She had never expected him to kill her.

She had never been happier in her life.

~o~

She would always slightly regret it.

While Hades was devastated, and while she had gotten rid of Maria, she realized her plan may have not worked so well after all. With Maria gone, he was sulkier than usual, and hell itself seemed to get colder than it had ever been. It was then she realized that the plan had slightly backfired, and that while she now had him, she had also lost a small part of him. The part that made him love.

But she still had him. It had hurt for a while, how everything revolved around Maria's death, but over time, he had come back to her. Partially, but she clung to the fact that she might someday have him completely to herself.

And when Bianca died, there was nothing else to rival his affections. But that had just made his recovery delay and even regress. But she still hung to the hope that she would have him completely. Because gods always got over their pain, it was only a matter of time. As long as their was nothing to remind him of them, he would heal.

There were times when she would watch him and feel slight remorse. The mortal would have died eventually, she knew she should not have been so rash and hasty. Regret... that's what she felt. Regret. But no matter what, she knew what she wasn't.

No matter what happened, and no matter how she felt, one thing was certain, she wasn't sorry.

She would never be sorry.

* * *

_**A brief A/N**: Okay, so this is not the chapter that was supposed to be, but I've had it for a while, so I decided to just put this in "Prejudice's" stead. This one I know is a stretch, but the idea hit me, and I found it very interesting... _

_Anyway, I really hoped you gaiz liked this ^^ _

_Next chapter: Prejudice  
_

_R&R s'il vous plaît :)_


	5. Dumb

.x Pandora's Box x.

.**  
**

_"The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed."_

_-Charlotte Brontë_

_

* * *

_

**

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**

**Dumb**

There was a certain prestige that came with being a child of Athena. Her children were expected to be prodigies and wonders. They were the children that most parents wished they had, and the ones that other kids either teased or envied.

She fell in the latter.

She had always loved being an Athenian, but that was when she was at camp. There were many reasons she loved camp like she did; at camp, she had a family, a safe and secure place, but most of all, she was prized. Granted, there were quite a few of her kind, but she was still held in admiration nonetheless. And that's what she loved.

Growing up in a neglected household, she was absolutely smitten with a place where she was accepted, normal... and appreciated. Because she was destined for greatness. She wasn't meant to be a hero, but she would mark her place n this world. That's what her kind did -- Athenians always excelled, and this was the one place where that was expected of her.

~o~

She hated school. It was unusual for someone like her to say it, but it was true though. At school, she was dyslexic. At school, she stumbled over her words, and forced herself to learn. At school she was nothing of what she was... At school, she was dumb.

That's what the other kids had always told her, from the day she first entered the school system.

Sometimes, when she was alone, the memories would just flood her, and she would always remember the pain. The first time she was called dumb was in kindergarten, when her class had been learning the alphabet. The other child had never really meant to be mean, but it still hurt, and she would never forget that.

It was hard to forget that, when it became such a common thing. She was always called stupid, _everyone_ called her stupid, even her stepmother had once or twice. But it wasn't just being called stupid that hurt her... in fact, that was not even close.

~o~

Behind her smokey gray eyes, there was nothing but wonder. She was a genius in many aspects... and she never forgot that. But it was exactly were it was, behind her eyes. It was in her head, and on the tip of her tongue, but she could never really show it.

She knew the answers to the complicated math problems on the board, but she couldn't read them, so how was she expected to understand? She could grasp concepts far above her age level, but to her, they were nothing but a jumble of words, and that was always the deciding factor. In a system where your intelligence depended on paperwork, she was nothing.

She was a brilliant girl, but no one knew. No one but other demigods.

That's why she clung so deeply to the Camp. It was there were she was understood... it was there were her potential was not just realized, but she was also encouraged. At camp she was somebody, she was a genius.

She was always afraid of leaving Camp. It was her one safe haven, and the place she called home. It was also where she was someone. Because in the real world, until she got older, she would be the same as always. She would simply be dumb.

* * *

_**A brief A/N**: __So, once again, this is not the intended chapter, but it came to me easily. So I'm sorry for the confusion. ^^" Anyway, this cahpter was centered around Annabeth, and how, despite being a child of Athena, she was still subjected to the curse of dyslexia. I really hoped you liked, and would really love to get some feedback. Please._

_Next chapter: Mirrors  
_

_Review s'il vous __plaît ^_^_


	6. Mirrors

.x Pandora's Box x.

.

_"The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed."_

_-Charlotte Brontë_

_

* * *

_

**

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Mirrors**

Two halves of a whole... that's what they were. Were... the word sounded so unfamiliar in his mind. But it was true. Castor heaved slightly, the pain stopping him. Never before had he imagined that he would be alone.

Because he wasn't supposed to. He was a twin - he was only one half of a soul. The two of them had been intertwined since birth, never to be separated. Yet, here he was in an empty cabin, alone. This was not natural, this was not right - no, it was life. He couldn't stand being in the cabin alone, not when every part of it had Pollux's and his fingerprints all over it. No, he couldn't.

Everything reminded him of his brother - every crease in the sheets, every crack in the floor, everything. They had branded this cabin as their own, solely for the two of them, but now it was gone. His body shivered, and he could feel the tears building once more within him. They weren't going to stop, so he just let them fall. They trailed down his cheeks, and onto the floor, each droplet symbolizing the pain he felt within.

His brother was the one that had wanted to come here. Their mother had been so against the idea, but he pressed on, and soon the happiness of his brother flooded him as well, and then left. But they shouldn't have; if it weren't for camp, they would still be together, if it weren't for camp, he'd still be alive.

That was his reaction when he first learned that his brother had died.

~o~

He couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed his birthday. In fact, these days, he did his best to forget it.

Every birthday brought the same thing. The same family matters. The same awkward silence when they remembered they were celebrating for one person, rather than two. It was painful. The way their mother… their, the word would slip from him. It was no longer 'their', now was it? It was now his. His. Singular; he was no longer plural. He never got used to that. It had been five years since that day, and he still referred to himself as "their".

He slowly dragged himself out of his bed; the floor creaked gently in a void and hollow fashion. To anyone it would have been slightly unnerving, but to him, he could care less. Long gone were the days of happiness and laughter, now all that was left was the silence. The silence became him, and he was perfectly fine with that.

Today he would stay in. Today he was going to do even less than usual. Today he was going to drown his sorrows. Today was their birthday. He airily made his way across the room and to the bathroom. The mirror was gone - all the mirrors were gone. He hated them. Every time he looked into the mirror, he saw his brother and that was too much to bear. He subconsciously stole a glance at the barren place were the mirror used to be. There was nothing left but the hard, white wall whose only decoration were the seasoned cracks that had formed from when he had torn the mirror off.

He would never forget that day - that was the night he had found out his brother had died.

~o~

He remembered the night perfectly. He was still in shock. Every thing had faded to black. The days seemed shorter, and his nights seemed longer. His tastes were gone, and his joy was destroyed. Life had lost his luster for him, and it was then he realized things would never be the same.

The night had been still and the room had never felt so empty. He needed a refresher, he needed to throw some water on his face. Slowly, he made his way off of the bed and towards the bathroom. It was always strange how their cabin was the only one with a built-in bathroom, but considering who their father was, it only seemed like natural favoritism.

He opened the door gently, his mind still hardwired into the habit of not waking his brother up.

For a moment, it seemed as if he brother had come back to him. Tears began to well in his eyes, and he choked back on a sob. His brother was back! There in front of him, was his weary and bruised brother, staring right back in him. There were tears in his eyes too. They had lied... he was alive! With a sudden burst of energy, he had lunged himself to ward his brother, and his following suit.

The glass chipped slightly as his face collided with it. Dazed, he found himself laying face down of the floor, with blood trickling out of his nose. His brother was gone... his brother had never been there. He looked up... it was only his mirror reflection.

With a sudden burst of rage, he grabbed the mirror, ripping it from the wall. He threw it towards the ground, the mirror shattered violently against the floors. He kicked and kicked, the shards cutting through the fabric of his pants, and into his flesh. He kicked some more, his voice unrecognizable as he bellowed in rage. He kicked, and kicked, and kicked. He had kicked till his leg was torn and his father himself had held him. Dionysus had grabbed him firmly, holding his against his chest.

That was when it finally hit him, that his brother was never coming back.

~o~

He couldn't bear to think it, but he knew it was true. Every time he looked into a mirror, he wasn't looking at his brother, he was looking at himself. He refused to think that... but that didn't stop him from knowing it was the truth.

Clouded and dark... that's what his world had become - that's why he could never look into another mirror again.

Because mirrors provided the clarity that he could no longer face.

* * *

_Brief A/N: Okay, so I'm very sorry for not updating for so long. I had hit something of a writer's block, and then there was the added pressure of the month of hell, but now everything's better ^_^ I really hoped you liked this chapter. And I'd love to hear some feedback._

_I'm also entertaining the idea of writing a story based on Pollux's life after his brother. Hmm, I'll get back to everyone on that one. If I do, it would most likely be titled, "The Silence Became Him." And a real quick shameless plug. I've got a new forum, so I'd love it if you dropped by and hung out there ^_^ You can find it on my profile where it says Forums lol._

_Next Chapter: Guilt._

_Review s'il vous plaît :)_


	7. Selfish

.x Pandora's Box x.

.

_"The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed."_

_-Charlotte Brontë_

* * *

**Selfish  
**

It had seemed like a wondrous idea when it was first proposed to her.

For the first time in her life, she would be among her peers. She would be valued, not as a mother, but as a sister, a companion, and a friend.

A friend.

The words had sounded so foreign to her - her who had been trapped for decades with a younger brother. The prospect and the idea that she would be apart of something so big, and in a small guarded community where she would be adorned, was almost too much to handle.

She wouldn't lie. She was never intrigued by the proposal of near immortality. She wasn't urged on by a deep resentment of males. She wasn't particularly fond of the idea of a nomadic and warrior lifestyle. In fact, she quite disliked that in its entirety.

But what she agreed was to be needed. To be a friend, and to have friends. To be able to share a bond unlike any other with other girls like her. To be a personal companion to a goddess - to finally have someone take care of her.

There was no second thought to her decision. There was not even a moments hesitation - only a question and an answer. Would it have come as any surprise the deep regret that followed?

**~o~**

There were no words to describe the hurt that she had seen on Nico's face when she told him of her decision.

Nothing could have possibly have described what she had seen, nor what her brother must have felt.

But she stood by it.

She stood by her choice because it was the right one. She knew it was the right choice. She thought it was the right choice. She would be protecting him, indirectly that was. She was leaving him in good hands, and in the care of good people. He would be happy, and he would have his place, just as she would have hers.

He needed to grow up. He needed to learn to live a life from beneath her wings, and to be able to fend for himself. She was doing the right thing. He was hurt deeply, but she refused to back down. He would forgive her in the long run, he would thank her in the end. He would see, she was doing the right thing, she was doing this for him.

Bullshit. She was doing this for herself.

**~o~**

The moment she saw the figurine, she knew she had to have it.

The small, nagging voice in the back of her head told her to leave it be, the goddess' warning playing in her head. But she couldn't leave it. It reminded her too much of her darling little brother. The very same brother she had left behind.

It had only been a few days, but...she couldn't forget the look on his face. She tried to push it aside, to shrug it off, to reason with herself. But it wasn't working. So it made logical sense to get the figurine.

It would serve as a small token from her to him, showing him, proving to him, that she will not forget him, and that no matter what, she would always be thinking of him. She would get it for him.

Lies. She was getting it to soothe her conscience.

~o~

Perhaps it was karma, or maybe some sort of divine retribution what was happening to her.

She felt the heat rising, knowing all too well what would happen in a few moments.

She didn't scream, she couldn't scream... but she could sob. Her mouth refused to open, the smoke already deep within her throat, but she felt it. The pain, not from the flames, but from her heart. She could feel it welling up inside her, and she could hear it escaping in muffles from within her.

She watched as the flames rise, the daunting end coming closer and closer. The tears were falling, dried to her face almost instantly by the heat that was filling the small, enclosed space. It had come so unexpectedly, there was no way she could have escaped it.

In her hand she felt the imprint of the small figurine. She could have chuckled at the irony, had she had the time.

She had given it all up for the chance to have friends, to be a friend. She had given everything up to be valued, not as a mother, but as a sister, a companion, and a friend.

There lie her pain. She had given everything up, when she had already had it. She had had it all with Nico. For decades she had made herself his mother, when to him, she was all that she had wanted to be. She choked once more, a small, terrified whimper escaping her lips as she felt the flames grow nearer.

She had given everything up, for something she already. She had left her brother, given him up, abandoning him at a moments notice to do what she wanted. The only family she had left she threw aside for a person she didn't know, for acceptance with people she didn't know. She had given everything up for her own selfish desire, and maybe that's why this was happening to her.

Had she stayed with her brother, her ten year old brother, she would have been fine. She would be scolding him right now, or listening to him babble on about his game. But she wasn't.

She felt the imprint burning into her palms. She hated letting it go. Letting it go as she had let her brother go. She choked back one last sob as she felt the fire sear her delicate skin.

The flames engulfed her, her sobs turning to screams. Her last regret was that she would never be able to tell him how sorry she was - that she would never be able to apologize for how selfish she had been. She deserved it. But Nico didn't.

And even to her end she was selfish. She would be gone, but he'd still be there. Hurting for her, missing her. He would carry the pain.

She let out one final scream.

She had been so selfish.

* * *

_**A brief A/N:** There really are no words to describe how completely disgusting I feel for not updating sooner. It's been nearly a year, if not already, since the last update and I'm terribly sorry. However, I won't pretend for a moment that I knew what to write. To say that I had hit a writer's block would be an understatement. It was more of me losing every ounce of inspiration and just plain not being able to write. Words wouldn't come, and eventually, I wouldn't have time. This was a terrible year for me, and while that is no excuse for the delay, I am hoping that you would forgive me, or at least understand where I'm coming from. Once again I apologize to all my readers for the wait._

_Next Chapter: Prejudice_

_For old times' sake_, _"Review s'il vous __plaît ^_^_"


	8. Amour Propre

.x Pandora's Box x.

.**  
**

_"The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed."_

_-Charlotte Brontë_

* * *

**Amour-Propre**

Everything scared him.

The dark, littered alleys of the city terrified him the most.

They were evil places - places where he was beaten, bruised, and bullied. These were the places where he was alone and on fending for himself. But it wasn't really fending, it was simply running and surviving what reality had in store for him.

He was ostracized.

No one liked him. He was the monster, even among others monsters. He was feared - well, his kind was feared, he was hated. Nothing good had ever come from his kind, nothing but torture and deceit.

He wasn't like the others. In fact, he was nothing like them. He was soft, kind, caring...he was a giant teddy bear. But no one saw that, no one cared to see that.

The only thing they saw was his eye. He was a Cyclops, and nothing else mattered.

He was a Cyclops. And he hated it.

~o~

He loved his brother.

He had loved him when he first met him. When he was first befriended him. Percy had been the first person to ever publicly acknowledge him, to care for him, to _like_ him.

He would never forgot the day he met Percy. That was the day that things had finally began to look up for him. To anyone else, it was nothing, but to him it was everything. Percy had stood up for him, watched out for him, befriended him. Whenever he was in trouble, Percy would be there to save his day.

The day he found out that Percy was his brother... well, that was just heaven on earth.

Percy was his friend. Percy was his guardian. Percy was his caretaker. Percy was idol. Percy was his hero. Percy was his brother.

Percy was ashamed of him.

~o~

Everything scared him.

But this time, he wasn't going to let that stop him.

This time, he would fight it. This time, he would show everyone that he was different. This time, he refused to be the Cyclops. From time forth, he would be Tyson.

This time, he wasn't going to run to Percy. This time, for once, Percy needed him. And he wasn't going to let him down.

He was scared - no, he was terrified. But he was going to do it. He was going to prove his worth. He would show his brother that he can be proud of him. He would show him, that he was not something to be ashamed of.

~o~

Nothing scared him.

Not the dark alleys, or the vicious monsters.

He was no longer lonely. He was no longer the overgrown softie that had been mistreated and abused. He wasn't hated. He wasn't hurting. He was happy. He had friends. He had people who cared for him. He was loved.

He had worked in the forges making weapons for the army. He had fought along side his father in protecting his castle. He had proven his worth. He had beaten through this hatred, he had won despite the prejudice. He had shown everyone that he was not one of the monsters of old. He was himself.

And for he is proud of that.

Everyone is proud of him. But for once, their opinions doesn't matter.

He is a hero. He is a son of Poseidon. He is a hero of war.

He is Tyson.

_He is a Cyclops_. And for once, he's not ashamed of that.

* * *

_A Brief A/N: Hm, I'm not too sure about this chapter. Initially this was "Prejudice", but it felt more about Tyson's worth than what others thought about him. So I changed it to "Amour-Propre", which is essentially respect for oneself. I do like it, but I wonder if I should have expanded upon it more. In all honestly I would have preferred it shorter, but it felt like there was far more to Tyson than a few lines. I feel that I should perhaps expand upon this thought in it's own separate story. If you decide to review, some thoughts on that would be nice._

_Next Chapter: Liar  
_

_Review s'il vous plaît :)_


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